S7 



Hollinger Corp. 
pH 8.5 



D 4756 AN 

2 

S7 

opy i ADDRESS 



DELIVERED BEFORE THE 



PEITHESSOPHIAN AND PHILOCLEAN SOCIETIES 



RUTGERS COLLEGE, 



Hon. ROBERT STRANGE, 

OF THE SENATE OF THE UNITED STATES. 



PUBLISHED BY REQUEST OF THE PEITHESSOPHIAN SOCIETY, 



Wefo*3fauttsfotctfc: 
JOHN TERHUNE'S PRESS, 

1840. 



5i 




V9 / 



Hon. Robert Strange, 

Sir— At a Meeting of the Peithessophian Society held in their Hall, im- 
mediately after the delivery of your Address this day, it was unanimously 
" Resolved, 

That the thanks of this Society be presented to the Hon. Robert Strange 
for his eloquent and able Address, and that he be respectfully requested to 
furnish a copy for publication." 

We have the honor to be, 

Your obedient servants, 

J. De mond HAWES, 
CHARLES F. GROESBECK, 

T. J. COWENHOVEN. 
Peithessophian Hall, July 14, 1840. 



Messrs. J. De MOND HAWES, 
CHARLES F. GROESI 
T. J. COWENHOVEN 



CHARLES F. GROESBECK, X Cmmmee of the Peithessophian 
t> t nnwT?ivrtmvT7Tvr i society. 



Gentlemen, 

I had the honor to receive your favor of the 14th instant, requesting in 
behalf of the society, a copy of the Address delivered by me on that day for 
publication. 

I am indebted to the society for this additional mark of good will and am 
too deeply impressed with the brotherly kindness of my reception on my late 
visit to New-Brunswick, to refuse any thing to any of its citizens, within the 
compass of my power to grant. 

I herewith transmit you a copy of the Address to be disposed of according 
to your pleasure. 

I have the honor to be, 

With the highest respect, 
Your obedient servant, 

ROBERT STRANGE. 

Washington^ July 17, 1840, 



ADDRESS. 



Young Gentlemen op Rutgers College : 

I find myself situated as by magic in a classic land: 
Classic in the beauty of its landscapes and the richness of its 
scenery— where the eye almost encounters at a glance the 
mountain, the ocean and the inland flood — those eternal 
monuments of the grandeur and benignity of nature — Clas- 
sic in its revolutionary remeniscences — where the fields of 
Trenton, Princeton, Monmouth and Springfield lie scattered 
around us — whose soil is fattened with the blood of heroes — 
whose story teems with wars waged in the cause of free- 
dom — the bloody ground — the battlefield of the Revolution : 
Classic in its ancient institutions consecrated to learning — 
where Princeton rears her venerable and war-scarred front 
dedicated near a century ago to the purposes of science, and 
where in the halls of your own Alma Mater for three quar- 
ters of that period the laurel crown has been twined for the 
aspirants to Fame. 

Few States have fostered even one such institution and no 
State in our Union has surpassed New- Jersey in her contri- 
butions to sholastic usefulness. From all quarters of our 
land, hither have the votaries of learning come up to worship, 
and from hence returned to their homes rejoicing in their 
successful pilgrimage. Some of the brightest jewels of 
southern society have received their polish in these institu- 
tions. 

Many kind offices have the North and the South inter- 
changed with each other, and by none has the latter been 
more obliged than by the intellectual stores which her young 
sons have carried home from the seminaries of the former. 
Gallantry compels me to make one exception. Occasionally, 



like gentle wanderers from some happy sphere, a fair visitor 
from these distant climes finds her way to a southern home and 
a southern heart to bless and comfort them. Long may the 
North and South be held together by such silken chains and 
palsied be the hand that shall draw the sword to sever them. 

Sensible, as 1 always am, of the fraternal bond by which 
these States are held together, your kind invitation has acted 
upon me as one of those potent spells of which we read in 
the romantic tales of the Arabian Nights, that not only trans- 
formed men but transported them also through incredible 
space in a moment of time. So altered is my course of 
thought — so great and sudden my change of place that I can 
realize little beyond my personal identity. Would that like 
some of the subjects of those necromantic influences to 
which 1 have referred, I could leave behind me on my de- 
parture a valuable and lasting relic. But I mistake my 
position. It is I who am transported to fairy land where all 
around me is lovely and enchanting ; and could I win from 
the rich treasures of your young affections some scattered 
Jewell I should be more than fortunate. 

It is recorded of an ancient philosopher that he fondled 
little children, that from the freshnes sand balminess of their 
breath he might gather a renewal of his health and a reju- 
venescence of his aged frame. It is to be hoped, although it 
is not recorded, that the philosopher repaid the physical 
advantages he enjoyed by imparting of his intellectual treas- 
ures to the minds of his infant benefactors. This story of the 
philosopher may be fabulous — at least his calculation was 
probably baseless, but the spirits of the old and middle aged 
experience a real refreshment in mingling occasionally with 
the young. This is especially the case with the spirit of 
him whose destiny has been cast among the busy scenes of 
life. The frankness of nature, of which intercourse with the 
world is so sure to rob us, retained by the young is delightful 
to behold. The assemblage of open ingenuous countenances 
through which one can see down into the very depths of the 



soul, as through a clear stream, the bright substances lying 
at its bottom, contrasts most gratefully with the masquerade 
in which it has been his lot to mingle. The image of the 
Maker reflected in brightness and purity, but partially dimin- 
ished, causes the Divinity to stir within him which has been 
overlaid by worldly cares. He sees himself— as in a glass, at 
that period of life when happiness waited upon innocence, 
and imagination causes the sun to go back upon the dial and 
renders him as of yore a member of the youthful throng — 
sharing with it in purity, in joy, in the benevolent affections 
and the bright promises of hope. "With such inducements 
you will not wonder that I have accepted your invitation to 
forsake, for a season, the halls of the Capitol and find in par- 
taking your Juvenile pursuits a safe and more efficacious 
remedy for the ills of Time than St. Leon's Elixir of Immor- 
tality, or Medea's famous process of renewal. There was 
however one restraining consideration — and that is my con- 
scious inability to pay a fair equivalent for the advantages I 
enjoy. Others who have preceded me were able to leave at 
the Shrine whither they had come up the costliest offerings, 
and each young Levite who ministered to their enjoyment 
was enriched by the partition. But I knew there was a benign 
principle pervading the universe that the offering of the poor 
man, however humble, if made with a devout heart, was no 
less acceptable than the gorgeous tribute of a prince. In 
trust then, that your young and generous hearts would lead 
you to overlook the poor performace of the task you have 
assigned me and to appreciate the spirit which prompts to 
exertion, I have venturned to come. 

And yet poor as I am I feel that I am not altogether desti- 
tute, and there is no little embarrassment in selecting from 
among my humble stores the most worthy offering. 

Let us suppose a number of travellers about setting out 
,on some distant enterprize, full of the most important conse- 
quences to them both individually and collectively. But 
the country through which they are to pass is full of intricate 



and devious paths, many of which lead into danger and 
some to certain destruction, and but few will ultimately 
conduct to the object of their search. None of these travel- 
lers have ever trodden one foot of the path that lies before 
them, and all are dependant upon information they may 
accidentally gather in relation to it. With what eagerness 
will they listen to the report of one who has passed over 
even some portion of the way ! What a kindness will they 
consider it for him carefully to impart to them all the im- 
formation he possesses on the subject ? And how fortunate 
will they esteem themselves in such a visitor? You, my 
young friends, are just starting on the journey of life upon 
which more than twenty years ago I had set out. It lies 
through a country nearly boundless, intersected by number- 
less paths which cross each other at almost every angle ; 
and on many of them lying finger boards are set up to 
mislead the unwary traveller to irretrievable ruin. You are 
perfect strangers in this country, and various stories have 
reached your ears in relation to it. By some it has been 
represented as a howling wilderness, full of ravenous beasts, 
ready to devour you. — in summer the sun smites with faint- 
ness the wayworn traveller — in winter the fierce blast 
pierces to his vitals as he gathers around him in despair his 
scanty garments — hunger pinches him continually, and it is 
only now and then when famine clings him, that some pre- 
carious supply of bread rouses him to capacity for further 
suffering — if he occasionally encounters a fellow traveller, 
it is only to exchange with him scowls of envy, or smiles of 
contempt, or that they may rob each other of their slender 
comforts. By others it has been represented to you as a re- 
gion of enchantment, where nothing is to be found that can 
hurt or destroy, — where the sun-beam and the zephyr so 
happily mingle that the air is attempered to luxurious soft- 
ness, the blast is never rougher than may serve to draw forth 
the notes of the Eolian lute — the appetite is not satiated 
with the gathered fruit ere blossoms are putting forth the 



promise of a fresh supply— the ways are crowded with happy 
fellow travellers whose countenances beam continually with* 
smiles of benevolence and whose hands are ever held forth 
distended with gifts. These are the extremes, but between 
them are a thousand representations in which the shades 
of each are variously mingled. You have perhaps asked 
yourselves "can all these representations be true?" Many of 
them however dissimilar, have reached you through channels 
so respectable that you can not doubt the sincerity of those 
who presented them. And yet there is difficulty, which to 
believe or how to reconcile the conflicting statements. Allow 
me to say, there is much truth in all. The travelers upon 
whose relations these various representations have been made 
have found different roads and of course passed through dif- 
ferent scenes and encountered various incidents. There is 
great variety in the country through which the journey of 
life lies and every things depends upon the road we take. 
Circumstances may force us into paths we would not have 
chosen, but after all our own volition has much to do with 
the result. A wise use then of our power of choice is 
important not only as respects the point to which our road 
may finally lead, but also as regards the advantages and 
comforts lying along it as we pass. 

Happiness is the object for which every being was created 
by its benevolent Author, and while a large portion of his 
creatures are bound in a chain of destiny, they can neither 
stretch nor break, the race to which we belong has accorded 
to it a free will, that allows it to seek happiness in this life 
according to its own devices, and to throw in if it pleases in 
its earthly bounties, that everlasting hope which is its sacred 
birth right. But every man would be glad so to exercise 
his faculties as to secure the happiness both of the life that 
now is and of that which is to come. They are doubtless 
intimately connected — but it would perhaps be going too far 
to say that they are inseparable. It is possible that a man 



„ 10 

may be happy in this life and miserable in the next, or mis- 
erable in this life and happy in the next. 

I would not presume, even were it not out of place, to be- 
come your teacher for the attainment of eternal life ; that I will 
leave to those whom Heaven has commissioned to that end : 
and all of you I indulge the trembling hope will listen to 
that holy teaching. But there is a happiness peculiar to this 
life, however imperfect it may be, unconnected with the 
promise of that which is to endure forever : and in reference 
to that happiness it is my purpose to speak. I know not 
how I can better meet your just expectations, than with great 
diffidence to impart to you a few suggestions gleaned from 
my own experience and the varied stories I have picked 
up from fellow travellers in my own short journey, that may 
assist you in selecting and keeping those roads in the 
pilgrimage of life in which most present happiness will 
probably be found. 

Were man a mere animal his wants would be few and 
simple and the same nature which created would probably 
supply them with little or no effort on his part. It is his 
intellectual nature whose complicated wants furnish the 
occasions of the principal sum of his happiness or misery. 
Even his animal appetites would minister but little to either 
the one or the other, but for the intellectual powers with 
which they are associated. They would be but as the bar- 
ren shrub exciting little or no interest did not imagination 
garnish them with the fruits and flowers which constitute 
their principal means of pleasure and of which, their being 
stript, furnishes the sting to disappointment. 

The cultivation of the mind then is the plucking from the 
tree of the knowledge of good and evil its dangerous fruit 
and greatly enlarges the capacity of him who gathers it for 
pleasure or for pain. Still no generous mind would hesi- 
tate thus to enlarge its capacities, especially when so much 
depends upon itself in the issue of the acquisition. It is of 
less importance that we should settle the question whether 



11 

total ignorance or mental culture be most favorable to happi- 
ness as you have already broken the chrysalis shell which 
surrounded you by nature and have stretched forth the wings 
of your intellect in the beams of science. You could not if 
you would, return to that state where ignorance is bliss— 
your minds cannot again become tabula rasa, but experience 
will be daily writing thereon, whether you will or no, either 
for good or evil. It is a matter of no small consequence then, 
whether these scriptures be random and accidental gather- 
ings in a reckless and uncertain course, or that the hand of 
Experience while she traces the characters should be guided 
by that of Prudence. In the one event is certain misery — 
in the other probable happiness. 

The moral and intellectual powers are so intimately con- 
nected that it is difficult to act upon the one without materi- 
ally affecting the other, and no system of education can 
exclude either of them from its influence. Consequently 
there are few things more desirable than a well tested system 
of education, and yet there are few I fear less likely to be 
attained. I will venture to suggest that there are in every 
human mind peculiarities which may totally unfit it for a 
system of education that may yet have acted most happily 
on another. In mere physics like causes are certain under 
similar circumstances to produce like effects. This may be 
equally true in metaphysics, but the difficulty in the latter is 
to be certain of the existence of like circumstances about 
which in the former there is less liability to mistake. The 
principle of vitality is probably the same in all animals — the 
primum mobile in all machines of a like kind is identical ; 
but those incomprehensible machines, the human mind, may 
find each in some one of its passions its own primum mobile. 
And who can know which is each in each, and especially in 
the earlier stages of existence, except He who framed it. 
Where then to apply the impulse is a matter of much deli- 
cacy and great responsibility in him who may seek to direct 
its movements. A slight mistake may give to the machine 



12 

a motion tending to its own destruction that can never more 
be arrested. The application then of motives to the mind 
in the process of education is in every case an experiment 
in which mistakes have often been productive of incalculable 
mischief. You are happy then in having your destiny cast 
where long experience has greatly lessened the danger of 
mistake and your wisdom and pleasure will be to improve 
the advantage. 

There is however one maxim in the improvement of the 
mind which on account of the importance it, holds in my 
own estimation you will pardon me for suggesting — and 
that is * Do your own thinking." The importance of this 
maxim is manifested in what is probably your mental re- 
sponse to it — that it is a useless injunction — for never is it so 
needful for one to be reminded of a duty as when he is per- 
fectly unconscious of ever having neglected it. " Do our 
own thinking !" you say to yourselves — " as if there is any 
man living who does not his own thinking." If such is in 
truth your response believe me you are laboring under a 
delusion which has been the mental blight of the human 
race. I doubt whether there is a man living who literally 
fulfils this maxim. It is only a small and high order of our 
race that makes any approximation to it. An overwhelming 
proportion of mankind is content to have its thinking done 
by others and to respond as the multitude may shout " Ho- 
sanna to the son of David" or " away with such a fellow 
from the earth he is not fit to live." This is the main point 
of distinction between the superior and the ordinary mind. 
The one receives nothing for truth which is not subjected 
to metaphysical analysis — which does not pass through the 
mental crucible and prove itself to be the genuine metal. 
The other is scarcely conscious of the existence of any 
faculty but its memory, and that like a pedlar's pack is cram- 
med with masses of inferior articles, among which is found 
little or nothing that is truly valuable. The one is like a 
man engaged in traffic who scrupulously examines each 



13 

price of money that is tendered him in payment and is cer- 
tain to take nothing that does not possess intrinsic value. 
The other is like a trader who receives without examination 
whatever may be offered, and if his stock in the end is not 
largely mingled with spurious currency he will have been 
far more fortunate than wise. The one leads and controls 
public opinion, the other slavishly follows in the train. In- 
tellectual Alchymy has at least one incalculable advantage 
over the physical, and that is, whether successful or not in 
the main object at which it aims, it is certain in the process 
to disengage some valuable material concealed in combina- 
tion, or to turn out from the crucible some excellent com- 
pound. Do not suppose it would be wise for you to fall into 
a habit of believing nothing which had not the testimony of 
your own senses to support it. No! That would be to 
shut yourself up in the gloomy chamber of the sceptic, 
subjected to an intellectual fast under which all the nobler 
powers of your mind would pine away and finally perish. 
What I mean is, that you should apply your own mental 
powers to every proposition ; examine the proofs on which 
alleged facts are said to rest, and decide upon the proper 
inferences from their existence ; and that you should not 
content yourself with the decision of others on the suffi- 
ciency of proofs, or allow them to impose upon you without 
investigation, their own deductions. By pursuing the one 
course you will perceive your mind continually towering as 
the eagle, higher and higher and into purer regions of 
thought ; by adopting the other you will find it gradually 
dropping its plumage until converted to a mere reptile, it 
crawls upon the earth. Invigorate your minds then with 
this important maxim and they will be duly prepared for the 
labors of science. 

Knowledge is the food of the mind, and there is in every 
healthy mind a natural desire for knowledge, as there is in 
the body for its proper aliment, and each will gather strength 
and capacity as a supply of wholesome food is administered 



14 

to a healthy appetite. And as the body enjoys one of the 
greatest pleasures of which it is susceptible in receiving 
wholesome food with a good appetite, so does the mind expe- 
rience great delight in administering to its own cravings for 
knowledge. 

But the appetite may be too weak for health and comfort; 
either in the body or mind, or vicious in its preferences, and 
stimulants may be applied to give it tone ; for where appe- 
tite is wanting food is administered probably in vain, if not 
to the actual injury of the recipient. It is a matter of 
profound skill to know when the appetite f for knowledge 
requires excitement, as well as how it is to be produced or 
what in any given state of the mind is its appropriate food. 
In this institution you may hope to have found that skill, and 
I ask pardon for my presumption in venturing to throw out 
a suggestion upon the subject. Sciolists in the medical 
science have sometimes assumed that a certain system 
of treatment and diet was suitable for all patients, while 
experience teaches us that some viands, as well as some med- 
icines, have a healthful effect upon some subjects which are 
most deleterious to others. So is it doubtless with the mind, 
and various treatment and various food should be direct- 
ed by a discretion which it is to be feared is too seldom 
exercised. Some have as unwisely as the medical sciolists 
prescribed for every mind the same regimen, and while one 
class of these persons is urging mathematical studies to the 
exclusion of every thing else, another is for proscribing them 
altogether, except for those whose future occupations will call 
for their practical use. The claims of what are commonly 
called the dead languages to retain their rank among the 
mental furniture are in this age undergoing a severe exam- 
ination and many it is believed are for discarding them 
altogether. It was said I think by Charles V. of Germany 
that every new language a man acquired doubled his mental 
stores, and although the saying is perhaps extravagant, yet 
I am inclined to hold it so far true as to furnish an irresistible 



15 

argument against the total disuse of those languages, in 
which have been embalmed through so many ages the 
invaluable body of ancient knowledge. Intellectual supplies 
can not well be too large ; but independent of the peculiar 
adaptation of some minds for one species of information, and 
unfitness for another, the cycle of modern knowledge is so 
rapidly widening that the most active mind in the longest life 
will scarcely find time to traverse every part of it. However 
strong then the appetite, most minds must content themselves 
with some appropriate arc of the mighty circle ; and there 
is much at stake in an early and judicious selection by each, 
of the portion which it shall be its principal effort to appro- 
priate. Having made this selection each mind should set about 
completing its task with zeal and perseverance. In making 
this choice much regard should be had, as has been already 
said, to its own aptitudes, but still more to the objects to which 
its knowledge is destined to be applied in after life. It is 
obvious that he who is intended for the profession of the law, 
would be guilty of a very unwise use of time in the study of 
botany and mineralogy, if he should thereby deprive himself 
of the opportunity for application to the languages and the 
principles of ethicks : and that he whose destiny is surgery 
would be worse than idly employed in algebra and conic 
sections, if they consumed the time afforded him for acquir- 
ing the elements of his profession. 

Under wise regulations the pursuit of knowledge promises 
happiness in a degree which few things beside can furnish. 
This happiness has perhaps no alloy but that which is found 
in every thing human — the certainty that duty or necessity 
has prescribed for it a short duration and circumscribed limits. 
But indulge in it while you may — while duty and inclination 
are yet going hand in hand. The day will come when the 
retrospect of the present time will mingle sighs for its return 
with vain regrets that it is not better improved. He who 
has been long seated in a garden beneath the refreshing 
shade of the vine to whose branches he may stretch forth 



16 

his hand and pluck off the luscious fruit does not appreciate 
his happiness as on some future day when wearied on a 
journey and parched with thirst he remembers the clusters 
no longer within his reach. For the time is at hand, nay ! 
to some of you now is, when the day of preparation being 
closed, you must enter upon the business of life. The gates 
of the garden of literature will be shut upon you, and no 
farther access allowed you to its fruits. Happy will you be 
if you shall have carried out a supply sufficient to refresh 
you through your toilsome journey. Your supplies, as I 
have already said, should be adapted to the course you 
intend to follow. 

But think not for a moment that your mental stores are 
intended for your own exclusive use. No ! They will in 
fact be useful mainly for the purpose of imparting them to 
others, and you will in turn be dependent for supplies on 
them. Neither you nor yours are properly your own. Both 
belong to society and it is waiting to claim you. You will 
find it rigid in its exactions, but it repays with generosity. 
Withhold from it the just tribute and you will be miserable ; 
pay it with a cheerful alacrity and you will be happy. 

The social principle is deeply implanted in the human 
heart and supplies the whole sum of earthly happiness. 
Who that has travelled does not know the inestimable value 
of good company on the journey — how it mitigates the evil 
of adverse circumstances and enhances every pleasure that 
meets him in his way. Cheerless indeed and miserable in 
the extreme would be the journey of life were it performed 
in solitude, and Providence has therefore kindly rendered it 
impossible : and man is attracted to his kind by an irresisti- 
ble necessity as well as by a generous instinct. Were all 
mankind in pristine purity this instinct could never result in 
inconvenierce. because that principle in each would always 
muiie up to another any real loss he might have suffered by 
its indulgence. But in the present state of things it will not 
do for one portion of society to be left entirely to the gener- 



17 

osity of another, and therefore the principle of self-love in 
implanted in every bosom to countervail the self-sacrificing 
tendency of the social principle. These two principles act 
like the centripetal and centrifugal forces in the solar system ; 
and it is the dictate of wisdom to see that no overaction in 
either the one or the other shall effect the moral ruin they 
were designed to hinder. Self-love in excess becomes self- 
ishness, the deadliest enemy to the happiness of him who 
is its subject. On* the other hand too great an indulgence 
in the social principle robs a man of that independence 
which is essential to his own comfort and real usefulness to 
that society to which he is so much devoted. And therefore 
self-love which might seem on a slight view of the subject 
intended exclusively for the preservation of the individual is 
in truth mainly designed for the good of the community : 
as the centrifugal force prevents the individual planet from 
rushing to the common centre and involving in its own 
destruction that of the whole system. 

There is a proneness in the imperfection of our nature to 
forsake the middle path of safety and glide into extremes, 
This is common to the individual man and to his aggregated 
masses. It is the part of the philosopher and the moralist 
to watch these tendencies ere they become too strong to re- 
ceive a check, and to give a timely increase of force to the 
antagonist motive. The motive of self-love, experience has 
shown us, is that which most commonly requires undue 
strength and therefore needs little encouragement ; while that 
of benevolence or the social motive is constantly yielding 
and therefore stands in need of every excitement. Like the 
respective steeds in an ill-matched pair, the one requires the 
rein and the other the whip. But as moral beings we 
must not suffer either of these to remain a mere instinct — 
they must not be allowed to grow as uncultivated plants in 
the open field — we must transplant them to the garden of 
education, and by skilful culture train them until they grow 
into principles yielding their fruits duly matured and in 



18 

their proper season. To do this successfully we must look 
to the nature and tendencies of each, striving to develope 
what is good and checking what is evil. 

To the social principle we owe much of the physical and 
all of the moral beauty that adorns cur world. By it the 
magic chain is wrought whose links confine the domestic 
circle. By it the babe is attracted to the maternal bosom 
drawing life in "milk as sweet as charity from human 
breasts." By it the mother yearns with an affection which 
language is too poor to utter towards a helpless being, who 
but for her tenderness must perish as the moth. By it 
the sweat is made to gather on the brow of strength, that 
gentle womanhood and feeble infancy may be saved from 
hunger and sheltered from the blast. The social principle 
is the root from whence spring all the benevolent affections 
and by it man is made to rejoice in the smile of his fellow 
man and to dread his look of indifference. Thence arises 
that generous love of approbation, the next best incentive to 
virtue after regard to the favor of Heaven. By the social 
principle cities have been built and nations constituted. 
But in building cities and constituting nations its true 
estimate has been too generally neglected, and a sad misno- 
mer perpetrated in applying the term commonwealth to an 
organization of society in which the many have been mere 
tributaries to the selfish purposes of the few. Some ambi- 
tious leader has seized and appropriated all political power 
and gathered the people as a flock of sheep around the shep- 
herd, leading or driving them whither he would, — to pasture 
or to slaughter and periodically exacting from them their 
fleece— and this has been aptly called a monarchy. Or a class 
of persons stimulated by the same bad passion or the more 
ignoble one of avarice has taken advantage of some accidental 
conjuncture to cheat the rest of society out of all control 
of public affairs and so to conduct them as to subserve its 
own plans and purposes of plunder and self-aggrandizement. 
And this has with equal propriety been denominated an 



19 

aristocracy. In casting his eye over the long tract of history 
the heart of the philanthropist is occasionally cheered with 
a triumph of the social principle in the constitution of a 
nation. But these triumphs alas ! have been but few and 
temporary. The corrupted principle of selfishness is ever 
getting the better of the social principle, and concentrating 
in the hands of one or a few persons, powers and privileges 
that are the birthright of all. 

Wearied with an arduous strife in the eastern world the 
social principle was about to surrender in despair and suffer 
the decision to be indelibly recorded that empire could 
never be swayed by her hand. She sate herself dejectedly 
down and followed with her languid eye the sun in his path 
through the Heavens until she saw him setting upon a land 
yet fresh from the hand of Nature's parent. She kindled at 
the discovery and gathered new energy from the smile of 
Hope. Thither she said will I transplant a chosen race and 
they shall be to me a peculiar people. She cast about 
among the nations of the Earth for characteristics most 
fitted for this great experiment. The Anglo-Saxon race 
was favored by her selection as most largely endowed with 
those noble traits best suited to her sway. A little more 
than two centuries ago she planted the colonies in this land 
to which the term commonwealths might aptly be applied. 
Under her benign influence they have grown and prospered, 
and the smile of Heaven has been upon their progress. For 
a long period each of these colonies though gradually multi- 
plying in number restricted to herself the exercise of the 
social principle. Selfishness, however, had pursued like 
her shadow to this distant land, and frequently strove to 
wrest from the social principle the dominion she had so labor- 
iously won ; but these attempts were unsuccessful and the 
colonies continued to thrive under their benign moral gov- 
erness. 

At length they attracted the envy of a distant land and 
selfishness put forth against them one of her most cruel and 



20 

alarming displays. A sense of common danger called upon 
the colonies for a resort to common means of defence. The 
social principle came to their aid and suggested to them a 
confederacy which declaring itself independent of the rest 
of the world, its constituents pledged each to the other in 
the common cause, the lives, the fortunes and the sacred 
honors of its citizens. The spiritual intelligences whose 
office it is to guard the social principle gathered around her, 
struck with the high moral sublimity of the scene, and a new 
page was opened to them in the Book of human destiny. 

Thus confederated, and sustaining and encouraging each 
other, the colonies, against the deadliest odds and under the 
most unpropitious circumstances, repelled the assaults of 
selfishness and took pledges that they should no more be 
renewed from the same quarter. But the social principle 
indicated a yet further improvement and the confederacy of 
the colonies early gave place to an Union : and thus under 
the pure guidance of the social principle the infant American 
people erected the most noble political structure under the 
sun. And yet it is a question which most to admire its 
grandeur or its simplicity. And when we look to the 
circumstances of its construction, it seems to have been 
rather a lucky stroke or a sheer miracle of Providence than 
the result of any human design. To compare small things 
with great the case of the artist who desired to represent a 
dog foaming at the mouth is no unapt illustration of the 
condition of mankind striving after a sound form of govern- 
ment. The artist could fashion his dog in perfect imitation 
of nature, but a successful copy of the foaming mouth defied 
every effort of his skill. Finally in a rage he threw at his 
trestle the sponge with which he was wont to clean off his 
palette which striking on the mouth the mimic dog effected 
at random with perfect accuracy what art had vainly striven 
to accomplish. And so ;while men in the old world had 
exhausted ingenuity to bring government to perfection by 
rules of art; circumstances in the new forced them as it 



21 

were by accident upon the principles of nature which ensur- 
ed success. 

The social principle still reigns pre-eminent. Govern- 
ment is not committed to one or a few hands, but is in those 
of the whole people while its active powers are so distributed 
by them at short periods from time to time for administration, 
as that even a temporary accumulation of them can not take 
place in their administrators. To the government belong 
the limited officesof extending protection, distributing justice 
and of levying taxes sufficient for its own support. Perfect 
equality in political rights is the property of every citizen 
and it is the privilege, the duty and the interest of all to see 
that this property is never invaded. 

This is the inheritance to which you were born, and your 
greatest earthly happiness is involved in preserving it unim- 
paired. Let this be among your earliest and your sincerest 
cares. Be not restrained by a dangerous cant common in 
the present day against becoming politicians. It is too often 
the case that the excess brings reproach upon things most 
praiseworthy in themselves, and thus because some persons 
have made politics a business and sought therein their only 
livelihood — all connection with them is denounced as tending 
to idleness — to unbridled ambition, and as bringing with it 
the suspicion of being moved by mere personal interest. Do 
not those who make these objections perceive that the most 
effectual way of perpetuating and multiplying this trading 
and dishonest class of politicians is for the pure men of the 
country to surrender to them the field ? The evil, of keeping 
up such a class is no less than the jeopardy of all our institu- 
tions. The people that fights its own battles is comparatively 
safe, while that which employs hireling soldiers will sooner or 
later find itself at the mercy of its servants. And whenever 
public affairs are committed exclusively to those who admin- 
ister them, for the profit that they bring, so soon does it be- 
come their interest to make these profits as large as possible, 

and the argument supposes that they have no other interest 

4 



22 

and no principle to serve as a counterpoise. Consequently 
instead of making government cheap, which is the interest 
of the commonwealth, it is that of those who administer it 
to make it dear. Separate interests spring up, taxation be- 
comes unequal and its product is converted to purposes 
adverse to liberty. This is the first and most dangerous foe 
to our political structure and ought to be watched with the 
most anxious concern. Do not therefore suffer any sapient 
intimations, that you had better have nothing to do with 
politics to restrain you from what is your solemn duty. To 
each successive generation are committed by that which 
precedes it the institutions it has cherished, to be preserved 
for the good of the common posterity, and bitter will be 
the curses of unborn millions upon that generation in whose 
hands a patrimony, such as ours, shall be squandered or 
destroyed. 

And yet, let me not be misunderstood, I do not advise you 
to become office seekers, characters very justly denounced 
and perhaps not least so by those who are most amenable to 
the charge. The expression used by the immortal Lowndes, 
in reference to the Presidency of the United States, is very 
becoming in relation to every office under either our State 
or Federal government ; " It should neither be sought nor 
rejected." Offices that were "created for the convenience and 
necessities of the community, should not be made the prey 
of individual cupidity. No good citizen should seek an 
office. Its bestowal should be left to the unbiased judg- 
ment of the community, upon a due consideration of all the 
circumstances of fitness and expediency. And when select- 
ed, it is in general the duty of every person to assume the 
trust tendered to him by his fellow citizens. There are 
certainly limits to the sacrifices he should be expected to 
make, and a discreet consideration of the circumstances will 
always enable him to decide when he is at liberty to decline. 
If others are at hand as well suited to the crisis — enjoying a 
share of public confidence nearly equal, who can more 



23 

conveniently serve than himself, he may no doubt with pro- 
priety defer to them and with still more when those with 
obviously better qualifications may be had. But in a great 
emergency when public confidence centres upon him and 
he is conscious of having a peculiar fitness for the public 
need, no consideration of a man's private sacrifices ought ever 
to excuse him. The elective franchise also is a talent which 
no man has a right to bury in a napkin, but is bound to ex- 
ercise it on all occasions according to his judgment of the 
public welfare. So far then as may be necessary to fit one 
for its exercise, and so far as its actual use will make him 
so, no man can rightly exempt himself from being a politi- 
cian. Not only should every man use all reasonable means 
to qualify himself for exercising the elective franchise in an 
enlightened manner, but he should moreover endeavor to 
prepare himself for serving his country in any station that 
she may see fit to assign him. Look to the spirit that actua- 
ted the revolutionary fathers — the sacrifices they were called 
upon to make — the disinterested services they rendered to 
their country ; asking no reward but the success of the 
common cause — their freedom from jealousy towards [others 
called by the public to distinguished stations — the brotherly 
kindness with which they strengthened each others hands 
in all their labors. Has that spirit fled from the earth having 
fulfilled the mission whereon it was sent? There is too much 
reason to fear so : but it is no less in the power of the rising 
generation than it is their duty to call it back and submit 
themselves to its sacred control. That every citizen belongs 
to the community of which he is a member, is a noble prin- 
ciple, the habitual recognition of which will go far to elevate 
you as moral beings and to place you in an atmosphere of 
pure felicity. It may be said I am indulging in an Utopian 
dream that can never be reduced to practical reality. If so, 
I can only say, it was the dream of Washington and Frank- 
lin, of Livingston, Brearly, Paterson and Dayton, when they 
signed the Federal Constitution, on the seventeenth day of 



24 

September, 1787 — of your own State Convention, which 
adopted it on the eighteenth day of December, of the same 
year — of the two state conventions that preceded yours, and 
of the ten that followed it : and alas for the depravity of the 
age, if all these are considered dreamers. But I indulge 
the hope that those who 'will pronounce what I have pro- 
posed a dream are themselves but dreamers. They have 
fallen into that mental lethargy which wrong habits of 
thinking and acting are apt to produce — they have no clear 
views of things and are prostrated beneath a moral indolence 
that hinders an exertion to reform what they indistinctly 
perceive to be wrong. 

The rising generation will I trust be wiser than their 
fathers, and so far from allowing them to deteriorate will 
improve the institutions committed to their hands. But in 
order to do so they must understand and keep a steady eye 
on the principles upon which these institutions are based. 
It is declared in the bill of rights of the State from whence 
I come, " That a frequent recurrence to fundamental princi- 
ples is absolutely necessary to preserve the blessings of liberty'. 
Those principles must be fully understood and often recur- 
red to. They should constitute the crowning study of every 
young man's education ; and in the study he should en- 
deavor to escape the reproach of Cicero. Tardi ingenii est 
rivulos consectari forties rerum non videre. Receive not 
the biased comments of modern politicians, but explore for 
himself the sacred fountains and patiently trace out the 
stream of results. 

It is conceded by all that the first principle of our political 
system, upon which all the others rest is perfect equality in 
political rights, and a consequent obligation of submission to 
the will of the constitutional majority. This majority it is 
true may be constituted of the medium classes of society in 
education, wealth and talent, and happily for our country it 
must necessarily be so. These are the most numerous 
classes, and in them prevails the largest portion of content 



25 

and therefore they are least likely to disturb the general 
harmony and equilibrium by any sinister purposes of their 
own. They have comfort without luxury. Their interest 
consists in the preservation of the social principle in its 
purity, which is ■" to give to every man his own ; and do 
unto others as you would they should do unto you." Hav- 
ing more to lose than to gain by a repartition they are 
necessarily in favor of maintaining unimpaired the equality 
of political rights. In those whom fortune has blessed with 
more than a moderate share of her gifts, there is a proneness 
to fancy these advantages natural and that they are them- 
selves created for some noble destiny, and hence they begin 
soon to stretch forth their hands to grasp at what they feel 
to be their birth right. This is the monarchic and aristocratic 
spirit. When we turn to those whose condition is very 
destitute from the beginning, or who have been the victims 
of adverse circumstances or of their own vices or imprudences 
we are likely to find among them discontent if not absolute 
despair. Any revolution in fortune's wheel is anxiously 
watched by them with the hope that it may promote their 
interests. These naturally seek an alliance with the aspir- 
ing classes, who have the means of assailing their minds with 
seductive appeals, and like the apothecary in Romeo and 
Juliet, " Their poverty if not their will consents" to break 
their country's quiet. Prosperity renders one class restless 
and adversity the other. In the middling conditions of life 
are most virtue, most content and consequently most happi- 
ness to be found. M Give me neither poverty nor riches," 
saith Agar, " lest I be full and deny God or lest I be poor 
and steal." " Ibo tutissimus in medio" said Apollo when he 
committed the reins of his chariot to his aspiring son. Our 
sagacious forefathers held the same opinions, and hence our 
constitutional provisions against monopolies, and exclusive 
privileges, and the early legislative abolition of entails and 
the rights of primogeniture. 

But I greatly fear that different views are fast gaining 



26 

possession of their sons. That the spirit of selfishness is 
making rapid encroachments on the social principle. That 
avarice, the most powerful if not the eldest born of the former, 
is overpowering all the beautiful progeny of the latter and 
dethroning them from the hearts of my countrymen. That 
an eager desire to be rich ourselves and to leave our children 
so is the common sentiment, instead of that devoted interest 
in the general welfare that actuated our forefathers. Is not 
wealth now a more esteemed quality than patriotism ? Is 
not what wisdom has pronounced the root of all evil, held 
as the chiefest good ? Shield your hearts against this delu- 
sion if you would be happy. Give it admittance, and like 
the despairing Queen of Egypt, you will have taken to your 
bosom the venom of a reptile concealed as in a basket of 
summer fruits. The eye may be delighted and the senses 
regaled, but the heart will be smitten unto death. Not that 
immediate death where pain is soon lost in insensibility — 
but a lingering torture like that of Prometheus, on whose ex- 
haustless liver the vulture preys incessantly. It will be 
death to patriotism and all its kindred principles. Think 
you the Roman Curtius would have plunged into the yawn- 
ing gulf, or the three Decii have successively devoted them- 
selves to the infernal deities to save their country, had sordid 
wealth been their chief admiration ? 

Let me turn your eyes upon one of those beautiful pictures 
ornamenting the pages of our Revolutionary story. You 
are presented with the wild and magnificent scenery of 
West Point, which nature seems to have sketched in one of 
her loftiest moods, to elevate the souls of the beholders to 
glorious purposes and gallant achievements. The noble river 
is reflecting the silvery light of the stars and chafing the 
base of the lofty cliff as if in defiance of the fortress frowning 
above it. Unconscious of danger the sentinels have relaxed 
their watchfulness and are dreaming perhaps of what they 
never realized. Sleep holds in its embrace every living thing 
within our view except two persons whom you perceive in 



27 

close and earnest conversation, and as the light falls casually 
upon the countenance of each, you may read that troubled 
expression which tells of some guilty purpose. And yet one 
of them is a soldier — nay a general officer, for his military 
dress marks him as such, and by his bearing you may see 
he is one whose valor may be trusted. His companion is a 
young man of interesting appearance and his countenance 
would commend him to our favor, but for its troubled ex- 
pression in that midnight conclave. But see they separate, 
and the soldier left alone throws himself upon a seat and 
presses his hand to his throbbing temples as one who has 
committed himself to some deed of desperation. His com- 
panion has gone forth — let us follow him and speculate a 
little on his conduct. See how stealthily he passes yon 
sleeping sentinel. He has cleared the out posts — and now 
wanders hither and thither like one not well acquainted 
with his whereabout. Thus he wanders until the day is 
dawning. Chance conducts him to where three idlers are 
engaged in card playing, and ere he is aware he is close upon 
them. Retreat would rouse suspicion, and escape is impossi- 
ble. The wanderer pauses and the young men accost him. 
He answers. His answers are suspicious. Poor youth, he is 
evidently playing a part for which he is little fitted. His nature 
is open] and ingenuous and the character he has assumed 
requires art and dissimulation. The perspiration gathers 
on his brow and his lip quivers. His anguish becomes in- 
tolerable and he offers money. He offers a large sum. The 
offer raises suspicion to conviction ; but it is rejected with 
disdain. He is the enemy of their country, a dangerous 
enemy, and gold has no charms for these youth in compar- 
ison with the safety of their country. They persevere until 
they unveil the guilty mystery, and the accomplished Andre 
is before them, a major in the British Army, who has been 
successfully practising on the guilty cupidity of General Ar- 
nold to surrender the Gibralter of his country to her enemies. 
How striking the difference between this proud general and 



28 

his three unpretending countrymen. The one loved gold — 
the others their country. For gold, the one laid at the feet 
of Sir Henry Clinton a fame, which like the river on whose 
banks his treachery was disclosed, had been gathering in its 
course both force and volume — a name which would have 
stood by that of the Father of his country, imperishable as the 
rock beneath his feet — a peace of mind as priceless as the 
Indies — a chief who had trusted and a country that had 
delighted to honor him. The others had nothing to bid for 
but their integrity, and that, the wealth of England was 
inadequate to purchase. The one is rewarded with the con- 
tempt of those who loved the treason, but despised the traitor— 
with the ceaseless execration of all good men— with a place 
in infamy more distinguished than that of Herostratus the 
destroyer of the noblest specimen of human art, the pride of 
his nation. The others were honored in life by a grateful 
country — supported from her coffers and distinguished by 
medals bearing on one side the word " Fidelity" on the other 
Vincit amor Patrice — and although dead they yet live in 
our memories and on an imperishable page in the Book of 
history. How beautiful the moral ! how full of instruction ! 

Am I doing injustice to the spirit of the age in suffering 
the reflection — that should an Andre come among us now he 
would not find in any three young men he might accident- 
ally encounter a Paulding — a Williams — a Van Verts, burn- 
ing with incorruptible patriotism. 

I need say nothing further to convince you of the danger of 
avarice to the individual and the nation. 

Do not suppose that I am recommending to you a total 
disregard of all personal and private concerns. I would not 
have you imitate the savage Spartans — break up the domes- 
tic circles — adopt the regulations of Lycurgus — eat black 
broth at the public expense, and spend your days in the 
gymnasium. Nor like the polished Athenians in the age of 
Pericles — devoting yourselves entirely to public affairs, or 
dissipating your time in amusements paid for out of the 



29 

national treasury. I have already intimated that independ- 
ence in your private condition is an important requisite for 
faithful and efficient public service. It gives you a boldness 
of thought and vigor of principle but rarely attained and 
preserved by the debtor and the slave, and removes from your 
integrity the severest temptations. But remember that inde- 
pendence consists not in the amount of your acquisitions, 
but in their sufficiency for your wants. By honest industry 
then and attention to your peculiar pursuits accumulate 
while you can ; not from the base motive of surpassing 
your neighbors, nor the selfish desire of gratifying without 
limit your inclinations and appetites, but as the means of 
enabling you the better to discharge the duties of life. Affix 
to wealth no other value, and this will constitute you an 
independent man and in that particular at least, a happy one. 

But in dwelling so earnestly upon the duty of devotion to 
country and so strongly denouncing avarice, 1 but imitate 
the gardener who prunes the limb whose excessive luxuri- 
ance threatens to destroy the symmetry, and beauty, and 
health of the plant, while he adopts all means in his power 
to encourage the revival of that which is ready to perish. 
I look around me and see, or fancy that I see, self-love 
branching out into a wild luxuriance that threatens to 
absorb the whole strength of the moral plant while the social 
principle is pining away ; and I desire to check the saucy 
growth of the one and to reanimate the other. 

Avarice is a vice of many parents, but never is it so ex- 
cessive and dangerous as when it springs from Luxury. 
The niggard who worships pelf for its own sake is pleased 
with small gains if they are but constant in accumulation ; 
but luxury is as insatiable as the, grave. He is a monster to 
whose growth there is no limit, — who gathers strength and 
bulk from every ministration to his craving appetite. A per- 
son who may have originated amid the most abject poverty, 
as he advances in life may by fortune or industry find him- 
self with a rapidly improving estate and wealth flowing in 
upon him until he begins to think of living in splendor and 



80 

luxurious ease. First one item and then another is added to 
his comforts until oriental pomp is fairly attained. Having 
reached this point is he content to advance no farther ? No ! 
The love of luxury and show grows upon him at every step 
until he sighs for the diadem and the Imperial purple. 
Happy would it be if this evil were confined to himself — to 
him whom fortune has ruined by her gifts. But alas ! 
luxury which originated in the same region from whence 
sprang that latest physical scourge of our race — the desolating 
cholera, spreads with a rapidity equally great, — but far more 
insatiable; it never ceases to spread while subjects remain. 
It wakes up in all who look upon it the latent seeds existing 
in every constitution and the dangerous symptoms are dis- 
closed. Means must be provided at every hazard to supply 
indulgences which few can afford, but in the extravagance 
of which the whole community has learned to outvie one 
another. In the disgraceful struggle Avarice becomes the 
absorbing passion, overlaying and strangling patriotism and 
every noble principle. So have perished all the Republicks 
that have preceded ours. So adverse has the common sense 
of mankind found luxury to institutions such as ours, that 
imperial splendour and republican simplicity is an antithesis 
familiar to every ear. When the Samnites saw the Roman 
General Curius Dentatus dining upon turnips out of an 
earthen dish, they knew him to be incorruptible. Yet luxu- 
ry this crawling reptile is I fear winding his destructive 
folds around our beloved country and stifling those infant 
energies which have marked it as a Hercules among nations. 
It is a question of life and death between the monster and 
the sleeping hero. Oh that the latter may be roused from 
his repose ere it to be too late and strangle in his gigantic 
grasp his subtle enemy. And think not that the individual 
citizen, can escape the torments of this moral monster while 
the country is suffering. No! Laocoon and his children 
perished together in the folds of the serpents. 

But it is not in the mere performance of official duty or the 
exercise of the elective franchise only that you may serve 



31 

your country. The stores you shall have laid up here can 
in ways without number be converted to her use and that 
of the whole world. 

You have seen that political power resides in the great 
body of the people to be disposed of by them according to 
their pleasure. Your happiness as a member of the commu- 
nity, nay, as a constituent part of the human family is 
deeply involved in this pleasure, being fortunately exercised, 
and your interest is to bring all favourable influences to bear 
in giving it a good direction. Upon this vast moral mass 
there are two principal modes of acting by him who would 
direct its movements. Like the individuals of which it is 
composed it has selfish passions and moral attributes, and to 
both of these appeals may be made. By appealing to the 
former the leaven of corruption is thrown abroad into this 
moral mass and the source from whence this corruption pro- 
ceeds is itself still farther corrupted. By appealing to the 
latter a moral elevation is produced both of those who hear 
the appeal and of those who make it. Can there be a ques- 
tion then in which mode it should be addressed? It was 
once a question truly and the old world seemed to have de- 
cided in favor of the former method, but the American fathers 
reversed the decision and made the Universe their debtors. 
A few in our favored land may yet approve the former 
method and think the decision of the old world wiser than 
that of the American fathers. These must believe the mass of 
mankind unsusceptible of control by moral motives and that 
its passions are the only handle by which it can be taken. 
The large majority I trust discard a doctrine so degrading 
to their race and hold that man is less of an animal than of an 
intellectual being. Waiving for the present the controversy 
which is nearest the truth, it may be safely conceded that 
man is susceptible of more or less control in either of these 
ways and as the one method tends still futher to degrade 
and the other to elevate him, there can be no question which 
will most contribute to the happiness of all concerned. In 
conformity with a principle early suggested to you in this 



32 

address you will judge for yourselves in this matter. The 
one conclusion would, I trust, drive you from the field of 
politics as one in which you could maintain no successful 
struggle without plunging yourselves into the depths of 
moral pollution. Should you arrive at the other you will 
feel strengthened in purposes of usefulnes and a new foun- 
tain of happiness will be opened in your hearts or an old one 
refreshed. 

But how, you will ask, are appeals to be addressed to the 
moral principles of the people? I answer, in ways as nu- 
merous as the channels of human intercourse. The liberty 
of the Press has been secured that one of these channels may 
be kept forever open. The press is an engine of immense 
power by which to operate on the minds of men. Should 
it be the fortune of any of you to wield it, think of the im- 
portant results that hang upon its use. Estimate duly the 
responsibility of your position. The press in our wide 
spread country is what the Orators were to the circumscribed 
republicks of the old world. It is as the wind which fills 
the sails of public opinion, and as the hand that moves the 
rudder. The parrallell holds with melancholy fidelity in 
another important particular. Here and there a faithful 
advocate for truth is found against a host of corrupt panders 
to falsehood and passion — a single Demosthenes against a 
thousand Cleons. The guardians of the flock have turned 
like wolves to devour it — the censors of the people have 
become the most conspicuous ensamples of bad morals — the 
teachers of virtue practice the vices of lying and slander. 
Even purity of taste in composition, which is the peculiar 
province of the press to inculcate and preserve, it has 
thoroughly debauched, until coarseness is called strength and 
refinement feebleness — vulgarity is preferred to classic 
elegance — buffoonery to attic wit— Peter Pindar and Coleman 
the Younger to Homer, and poor imitations of Jack Down- 
ing and Sam Slick to Walter Scott — a jest is more efficient 
than an argument and truth falls prostrate before the wooden 
sword of Harlequin. The most successful writer is he who 



33 

can compile the most egregious folly without becoming ab- 
solutely unintelligible. I do not object to the keenness of 
satire — to the playfulness of raillery or even the severities of 
irony on proper occasions. I unite with Horace in the 
question. 

" Ridendo dicere rerum quid vetat ?" 

But the abuse or even continual use of these lighter elements 
of composition imparts a frivolity to the national taste and 
character, and reduces life at most to a vulgar jest. But 
downright abuse and habitual slander admit of no apology. 
How can that nation preserve its purity and respectability 
whose most distinguished men bear ever upon their garments 
the evidences of having been dragged through the kennel 
of detraction ? The public taste is evidently poisoned, and as 
might be expected, considering the intimate connection be- 
tween the intellectual and moral powers, there is too much 
reason to fear that the latter will follow, if it has not preced- 
ed the prostitution of the former. They will deserve statues 
more durable than brass who will rescue the artillery of truth 
from those who wield it so unwisely. 

Oratory is another powerful means of operating on the 
human mind. You have read of its triumphs in ancient 
times and your souls have doubtless swelled with noble 
emulation as you have perused the story ; and you have 
hoped for the day when the hearts of your countrymen would 
be moved by your voice as the trees of the wood are moved 
by the wind. But has it not been an idle hope which you 
are taking no rational means to gratify ? The saying may be 
true Poeta nascitur nonfit and no instance probably can be 
found where mere cultivation has made a Poet, But it is no 
less true, Orator Jit non nascitur. No man has become an 
orator but by cultivation. Some are doubtless superior by 
nature to the rest of mankind in the gifts of Mercury, which 
have enabled them to entertain their hearers and to win 
for themselves a good degree of fame. But Oratory is an 
art which nothing short of the greatest labor can carry to 
perfection. It is emphatically an art, and much time is 



34 

required to gather its implements and become expert in their 
use. And I am inclined to think that reasonable abilities, 
directed with industry would rarely fail. Remember the 
labors of Demosthenes and his triumphant success. There 
is no nation under the sun where Oratory is more valued 
than in our own — where it is so generally attempted, and 
where real eloquence is more rare. I have heard much 
myself that was called good speaking, but candor compels 
me to say invariably with more or less disappointment, ex- 
cept in a few cases where merit has been without reputation. 
Not that I have not often been filled with admiration of the 
natural powers exhibited and the mental resources developed, 
but there has always appeared to me to be a want of skill 
in their use and application to bring upon the mind those 
illusions which I early learnt to suppose true eloquence 
would produce. And why should it surprise us? Who is 
there among the disiingues of our land that has devoted 
much time to the practice of elocution ? On the stage we 
occasionally see specimens of the efficacy of this practice. 
From the pulpit I have beheld some happy approximations 
to what I have conceived of eloquence, and on occasional 
visits to the University of my own State, I have witnessed 
the repetition of a speech from a College tyro which more 
stirred my blood than when originally delivered by its 
accomplished author in the Senate of the United States. 
Bearing testimony at once to the truth of what Demosthenes 
declared more than twenty centuries ago of the importance 
of action or manner, which constant practice only can make 
perfect: and to the ability and attention bestowed at that 
institution upon its youthful charge. The truth is the hu- 
man mind is as a violin and the whole oratorial application 
is as the bow : but it is not the mere contact of the two that 
will produce music : this contact must be skillfully made or 
disgusting discord usurps the place of the "harmony of 
sweet sounds." Or slightly to change the figure, the human 
soul is the musical instrument and the speaker is he who 
would play upon it. If he knows not the tone that each chord 



35 

yields according to the point at which it is smitten — whether 
now to touch it with a gentle hand or with a bold and 
furious stroke, he will find himself like Fear in the beautiful 
ode of Collins, 

First Fear his hand its skill to try, 
Amid the chords bewilder'd laid 
And back recoil'd, he knew not why 
E'en at the sounds himself had made. 

If then you would succeed in Oratory you must make it your 
study — your anxious laborious study. You must enrich 
your minds with the treasures of the earth, the air and the 
mighty deep. You must put on a costly intellectual pano- 
ply and throw around you a mantle of dignity in your 
private walks. You must learn to scatter your jewels grace- 
fully among the crowd — to come upon them when you 
please with irresistible power, and never by your vices or 
your follies allow them to perceive that you are less than a 
God. Such are the difficulties which beset the attainment 
of true eloquence. But success will lift you more justly to 
that eminence which Horace claimed for the Lyric poet. 

" Sublimi feriam sidera vertice." 

Admiring crowds will hang upon your lips and the fabled 
power of Orpheus will be realized in your person. This 
western world presents a wide field for the triumphs of 
oratory : a harvest of glory is ripening in that field for which 
happy is he who makes a timely preparation of his sickle. 
I greatly fear the cultivation of this noble art is to find 
an incentive in a necessity destined to occur, for resisting by 
some means of untried power the dangerous control which 
the press will exercise over all classes of society. But from 
whatever cause you shall be stimulated to the enterprize, 
should you go forth in this noble pursuit be sure that you 
approve yourselves the apostles of truth, ever bearing in mind 
that purity or impurity of heart is as critical to the might of 
the orator as the unshorn hair to Sampson or the undipped 
heel to Achilles. 
But lastly, you may render to your country and the world 



36 

most important service and secure at the same time your 
earthly happiness by a correct deportment in the various 
affairs of life. The virtuous conduct of a man is as certainly 
reflected by those who surround him as the light of the Sun 
is thrown back by the various objects on which it falls. 
Your good examples may not be equally efficacious to all 
your companions, as objects vary in their aptitude to give 
back the brightness of Heaven's luminary ; but each one 
feels in its degree the warmth and acknowledges the light. 
Should all of you my young friends go forth into the world 
duly impressed with this consideration and full of the spirit 
it is calculated to impart, like so many stars scattered 
through the firmament, you will cheer the darkest night of 
your country's destiny. But that is not all. You have seen 
what intense physical light often bursts upon the eye from the 
kindling of the minutest spark. But there is a power of prop- 
agation in moral light unknown to the physical : and one of 
you may carry in your bosom that moral spark whose kin- 
dling shall illuminate the world. Carefully guard it then 
against those gusts of passion that may extinguish it 
forever, but court the gentle breathing upon it of the benevo- 
lent affections, until it bursts forth in all its warmth and light, 
the joy and the wonder of nations. 

I have trespassed longer on your time than I intended. 
It is said of a distinguished individual upon complaint being 
made that a production written by him was too short he re- 
plied to the complaint. " If more time had been allowed me 
I should have made it shorter." And so say I of this Address. 
It has been prepared at intervals snatched from the pressure 
of business incident to the close of a long Congressional 
Session, and could I have commanded more time, 1 should 
have made it shorter. It is not in any respect what I could 
have wished it. But such as it is I offer it in a sincere desire 
to minister to your happiness and with the hope of retaining 
an humble place in your memories, when hasty destiny 
fulfils her decree that we who have seen each other for a 
brief space on the highway of life shall be scattered abroad 
to meet no more— Forever. library of congress 



3l 
SI 



LIBRARY OF CC>MQRtESS + 



028 316 010 5 



Hollinger Corp. 
pH 8.5 



